Dangerous Stand-In Bride: A Luna on the Run
Selene’s POV
Click. Click. Click.
My high heels tapped softly against the polished floor, each crisp click echoing down the silent hallway. I walked carefully, my breath held tight in my chest, every step feeling like it carried me closer to a fate I didn’t fully understand.
This was my very first time setting foot in the Ice Moon Pack’s territory. Though my father, Lars, was the Alpha of this pack, I had been banished when I was just an infant, exiled along with my grandmother, Fiona.
Today was a rare full-moon night—and also the day of my twin sister Vanessa’s wedding.
The groom’s pack had insisted the ceremony take place tonight, but Vanessa was delayed overseas by some urgent matter.
So, I was here, disguised as her, to take her place as the bride.
Lars had promised me that if I obeyed him, he would help Fiona with her treatment and allow us to return to the pack after the wedding.
The white wedding gown I wore was Vanessa’s, yet it felt as though it had been made just for me. The bodice hugged my figure perfectly, and the three-quarter sleeves were ideal for hiding the flame-shaped birthmark that curled down my shoulder to my upper arm. The delicate lacework shimmered with tiny pearls, glittering like starlight.
I couldn’t help myself—I spun in a slow circle, the skirt of the gown flaring around me. I had never worn anything so beautiful in my life.
As I passed a slightly ajar door, a woman’s voice floated out, low and tense.
“What if she finds out the truth? What if she tries to run?”
My steps faltered. Vanessa?
Was she… here? Talking to my father?
Confusion prickled at my skin, and curiosity propelled me forward. I held my breath and crept closer to the door.
“She won’t,” Lars said, his voice calm, calculating. “Selene thinks she’s helping you. She has no idea we’ve sold her to Alpha Damien.”
What?
The words slammed into me like a physical blow. Sold me?
“It’s such a shame,” the woman murmured. “If Alpha Damien weren’t insane, I would have gladly become his Luna myself. After all, the Blood Shade Pack is the most powerful pack in the region. But you’ve heard the rumors, haven’t you, Father? They say he’s already killed several of his servants.”
“And despite being only twenty-nine,” she added with a shiver of revulsion, “he looks like an old man—wrinkled, terrifying.”
“An accursed sickness,” Lars explained coldly. “It’s eating away at him, aging him rapidly and driving him mad.”
My eyes widened in horror.
“Oh, heavens…” the woman giggled, a sharp, chilling sound.
“Damien needs to fix this problem, or others will challenge his position. He claims to have found his mate, but the truth is, he needs to sacrifice a woman with Alpha blood under the full moon to cure himself. After that, he can continue searching for his true fated mate.”
Lars’ voice dripped with greed and indifference. “No matter what happens to Selene, we get what we want. He gets his sacrifice. We get his gold. Everyone wins.”
My entire body went cold.
Sacrifice.
They were going to hand me over to a madman to be slaughtered like an offering.
I staggered backward, my breath catching, my mind reeling.
So this entire wedding… this entire plan… it was nothing more than a trap they had set for me.
My hands shook uncontrollably, my heart pounding in my ears. Just moments ago, I’d been giddy with excitement, twirling in a beautiful dress. Now, that joy curdled into bitter rage and crushing despair.
Lars. Vanessa. My own father. My own sister.
How could they be so cruel?
Vanessa was only minutes older than me, yet our lives couldn’t have been more different. She was the cherished Alpha daughter, while I was nothing more than a cursed outcast.
The elders had declared the flame-shaped birthmark on my arm an omen of misfortune. My strong, healthy mother had died giving birth to me—proof, they said, of my curse.
Lars had wanted to kill me, but Fiona had begged for my life. The compromise was exile: both Fiona and I were cast out, stripped of the protection of the pack.
For years, I’d carried guilt for the life Fiona lost because of me. When I turned sixteen, I’d hoped to awaken my wolf, to finally earn a place back in the pack. But I hadn’t.
I was a werewolf without a wolf.
A disgrace even lower than an exile.
Lars’ unexpected visit had reignited a fragile hope within me—a dream of belonging, of redemption.
But now, that fragile hope had been shattered into jagged shards of betrayal.
My chest ached, my lungs burning with each breath.
I’d been unwanted since birth, but I had never given up on myself.
And I wouldn’t now.
I wouldn’t be their sacrificial lamb.
I wouldn’t marry a madman.
Fiona needed me.
I had to escape.
Silently, I backed away from the door, struggling to steady my trembling hands and racing thoughts.
Without a wolf, I couldn’t outrun Lars or his men.
But I had arranged for a car to meet me tonight.
If I could just reach it, I still had a chance.
I was almost at the exit when—
My phone rang.
The shrill sound pierced the silence like a scream.
Inside the room, voices went quiet.
They knew.
The door swung open. Lars stood there, his face dark with fury. Beside him was a young woman who was my mirror image.
Vanessa.
My twin sister.
Rage surged through me. I tore the veil from my head and hurled it at her.
“The real bride has finally arrived,” I spat. “The stand-in is done playing her part. Congratulations on your wedding, sister.”
I turned to leave, but Vanessa grabbed my arm in a bruising grip.
“You can’t go, bitch!” she hissed. “You have no choice. You will marry him! Remember—our grandmother is still in the hospital, waiting for the money to save her life!”
My heart plummeted.
Was this truly my sister?
Why couldn’t I feel even a trace of love in her words?
“She’s your grandmother too!” I shouted, furious.
Vanessa’s lips curled into a cold, mocking smile.
“So what? She never did anything for me. Why should I care if she lives or dies?”
Something inside me snapped.
“You heartless—!” I grabbed the nearest vase and hurled it at her. She screamed, ducking just as it shattered against the wall.
While Lars rushed to check on her, I bolted.
Kicking off my glittering heels, I gathered my skirts and sprinted barefoot down the hall.
Behind me, Lars’ enraged voice roared:
“Stop her! Don’t let her get away!”
The exit was in sight.
My lungs burned as I searched desperately for my car—a black sedan with the plate number 98…
“Black car, 98…” I gasped the words under my breath, scanning wildly.
Then, like a miracle, a car screeched to a stop right in front of me.
It was black.
Plate number 98.
My car.
Relief flooded me. I stumbled toward it—
—and tripped on the trailing hem of my gown, crashing to the ground.
“No, no, no!” I scrambled to my knees.
Behind me, heavy footsteps thundered closer. Lars and his men were almost upon me.
My breath came in ragged, panicked gasps.
I was finished.
Suddenly, the car door swung open.
A man stepped out.
I froze.
He looked like a figure torn from a dream—no, a nightmare—dangerously handsome, impossibly powerful.
He was tall, with broad, solid shoulders and a body honed with raw strength.
His jawline was sharp, his features rugged and commanding.
But it was his eyes that stole my breath—piercing green, intense and magnetic, locking onto me as if they could see into my very soul.
He strode toward me with lethal grace, his gaze never wavering. My heart pounded so hard it hurt.
“Need some help?”
His voice was deep, velvet-smooth yet edged with steel, as he extended a strong, calloused hand toward me…
